He Knows
by hansprinsessa
Summary: Eric has been made human and has asked Pam to turn him. Pam POV. One shot, AU, possibly OOC Eric and Pam which is why I published under TB instead of SVM


**A/N: First fanfic. Not my characters, unfortunately.**

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If I were human, my palms would be sweating.

My knees would be weak, my breath coming in rapid bursts, my hands shaking. But instead, because I am vampire, I stand there with my usual I-don't-give-a-fuck face. To any outside observer (thankfully there are none of those around right now) I would be the picture of calmness and serenity.

But he knows.

We may no longer share a blood tie, but one look into his eyes could fill volumes. He can still sense the pure, unadulterated fear flowing through me at this moment. Now, I normally pride myself on my complete lack of emotion. Emotions make you human, being human makes you weak. So it's no challenge to keep up the appearance that I give no fucks about anyone or anything except for myself and my extensive collection of Jimmy Choos.

But he knows.

There is one chink in my armor, and here he stands before me. My maker, the great Eric Northman. In many ways he's the same as he's always been. Freakishly tall, extremely imposing, heartbreakingly beautiful in the moonlit night. I remember him the evening he gave me eternal life like it was yesterday instead of almost two centuries ago, and that night he wore the same expression on his face he does now: one half cocky bastard, one half boyish charm. But his eyes, oh, how his eyes have changed. That first night his eyes held his loneliness, his longing for a companion; but also his lust, his hunger for my blood and my body. All of those things are long gone, but have been replaced by things that can make me feel disturbingly…human. There seems to be an unspoken agreement between us to never speak aloud the feelings his eyes communicate to me at times like these.

But I know.

Can one put into words the emotional tie between maker and child? No, probably not, which is why these things between us are better left unsaid. His eyes tell me he loves me, not in the same way he loves his flouncy fairy princess mind you, but maybe a love that is in some ways stronger and deeper than theirs could ever be. I am his daughter, his sister, his mother, just as he is my father, my brother, my son. We've spent the last two hundred years traveling the earth together, sometimes leaving a trail of destruction in our wake. We were lovers at times, yes, but more than that we were partners in crime, inseparable. Eric Northman took the world and laid it at my feet. He led by example, guiding me (sometimes gently, sometimes not so gently) through the vampire world, teaching me everything I know. Life lessons that I still call on nightly two centuries later. I owe everything to him, everything that I am and will be, and I've never told him so out loud.

But he knows.

This man before me is the very man who taught me humans were cattle, nourishment, not friends or lovers. He told me getting attached to a human was a mistake, a mistake he has made himself, much to my dismay. I've never come close to giving a shit about a human further than a quick feed and fuck, that is until now.

Because the man standing before me, my maker, my best friend, my entire world…he stands before me a human man.

The how's and why's aren't important, all that matters is we're here now, standing together in the moonlight, a human and a vampire. I study him with my keen senses. I can smell the sweet scent of Sookie clinging to him from where he obviously fucked her earlier this evening, the lucky bastard. Beneath that, his bodywash and aftershave. And beneath that, the scent of his human blood, his fear, and even a hint of his excitement. I can hear his heart beating, pounding away in his broad chest, the sound of his blood wooshing through his veins. _Blood which you will be gorging yourself on shortly_, I think, barely suppressing a shudder as my fear rises again. I try to hide it, I really do.

But he knows.

I feel like we've been standing here staring each other down for an eternity. Slowly, he raises one eyebrow and his lips break into his signature cocky smirk.

"Are you challenging me to a staring contest, Pamela?"

I grin. "I would win, pathetic human."

My maker laughs loudly. I miss feeling him through the bond, all the little flashes I used to get from him throughout the nights: his mirth when we teased each other, his irritation when I was doing a good job being a pain in his ass…even the little tingly feelings I would get from him while he was getting laid. Losing the bond with my maker was and still is a painful ordeal for me. I've felt like there was a black hole in my chest from the moment Eric was turned human and our bond snapped like an old rubber band. I can't help but flashing back to that moment, the moment I thought my beloved maker was finally dead. My first thought was to meet the sun; the thought of living while he wasn't living is unbearable to me.

I look down at the peep-toes of my new Louboutins. If this doesn't go according to plan, if he doesn't rise vampire in three nights, if I fuck this up...meeting the sun is exactly what I will do. Being a vampire for the last two hundred years has been a blast, don't get me wrong. But I have no desire to walk an Earth that Eric Northman doesn't walk on. Especially when it would be my fault he was gone. Finally, I look up and meet his ice blue eyes.

There's so much I want to say to him, but I open my mouth and nothing comes out. I try to force out the words, tell him that I love him in a way that is indescribable in any of the many languages I'm fluent in. That every night when I rise I thank every god that ever existed that he came upon me that night in England all those years ago and gave me life through death. That there's nothing I can ever do to repay him for saving me in so many ways. My mouth still hanging open, the words are on my tongue but try as I might I can't seem to make a sound.

One look at Eric, though, and it's obvious.

He knows.

A strangled sob forces its way from my throat as the first bloody tears fall from my eyes. The fear I've been feeling for days suddenly overcomes me and before I know it, my knees give way and I crumple to the ground, head buried in my hands. I feel the air moving around me and suddenly he is there, his arms around me, one large hand stroking my back while the other caresses my hair. He doesn't say a word, and neither do I.

He knows. I know. There's no need for explanations.

He gathers me up in his lap and rocks me gently as I sob uncontrollably, ruining his shirt just like Sookie tends to do when she gets all leaky. With both arms thrown around his shoulders and my head buried in his neck, I find his warmth oddly comforting. As I listen to his heartbeat my tears start to slow. I try in vain to wipe the bloody tear tracks off my face and he chuckles.

Pushing me gently off his lap, he stands and removes his shirt, handing it to me. "Here," he says, "you've already done a number on it, and I won't be needing it for much longer anyway, right?"

Gratefully I take his proffered shirt and begin to wipe my face and chest clean, huffing when I see I've stained my dress, reminding me why emotions suck. I like to refrain from leaking. Finally I stand up and brush the grass off of me. Eric is standing surprisingly close, and I inhale automatically. I can smell his human tears, which causes a few more of my own to fall. Catching one on his thumb he pops it in his mouth and grimaces.

"I guess I need to get used to this again, huh?" He grins at me, so goofy in his human form with tears staining his cheeks.

"Yes," I answer, "you had better. You're about to get a lot of it." Eric nods and suddenly drops to his knees in the grass, pulling me down with him.

He caresses my cheek softly with his fingers, then grabs my chin to keep the eye contact I'm having so much trouble maintaining tonight, and begins to speak.

"Pamela, my first and only child, I have done many things in the last millennium that I regret, and a few things that I am proud of, but my shining accomplishment in this existence has been you. You are ruthless, cunning, brilliant, beautiful, and loyal to a fault. I have done nothing in my lifetime to deserve such a child." Both of our tears are falling rapidly at this point, and he stops to quickly wipe mine away, his hands coming to rest on both of my shoulders giving me a little shake. "If this doesn't end well, I want you to know this, Pamela. I want you to know that you, little one, were the greatest choice I ever made, and I…" His voice breaks and he swallows hard, then starts again. "I love you, my child."

Hearing those words cause me to dissolve into tears. I open my non-functioning mouth again and nothing but a squeak comes out. I want to tell him I love him too, that my world revolves around his happiness, but I can't.

Good news is, I don't have to. He knows.

With both of us still kneeling in the grass, he straightens a bit. "Now," Eric says, his typical commanding asshole tone making an appearance, "let us get this over with, shall we?" His serious expression cracks into a breathtaking smile as he looks down at me, and I can't help but reach out and touch his lips. He kisses my fingertips softly, and I bring them to my face and kiss them too.

Slowly, I nod. I still can't form coherent words. It's time, though. He knows.

He nods too, leaning down to plant a kiss on my forehead before sitting back on his knees. Reaching out to him I run my perfectly manicured fingers down his cheek, slipping them slowly to his neck to trace the vein there. I feel his blood throbbing under my fingertips. Giving him a shaky smile, I scoot closer to him on my knees, running my nose up his neck to just underneath his ear. I feel him shiver, and I can't suppress my giggle.

Finally, I find my voice, and all I can think to say is, "This is fucking weird."

Eric laughs his rich, deep laugh, and pulling me back away from him by my shoulders, he looks at me and smiles. "Is it? I hadn't noticed." Leaning in again, I smile against his skin and run my tongue quickly across his jugular. Sensing my hesitation, Eric gently cups the back of my head with his hand, pressing my face into his neck.

"Drink, my Pamela. All will be well."

Without further thought, my fangs slip into his neck. I can't suppress the groan that is ripped from my throat as his blood fills my mouth as I drink deeply from him. Eric hugs me tightly to him and moans in appreciation; I suppose he's not found himself on this side of things too often. I feel him start to weaken as I continue to drink, so I lay us both down on the soft grass.

The moment I've dreaded has come. That point where human instinct kicks in, the fight or flight response so to speak. Eric begins to struggle against me as his life flows from him into me. Even as a human he is quite strong, so I end up climbing on top of him, holding him down with all my vampiric strength as I drain him dry. I keep my eyes closed tightly. I have no desire to see the fear in my maker's eyes, because it would be fear of me I'd be seeing, fear of the being that is killing him. I can't bear it.

Finally I feel him begin to go limp. I release my fangs from his neck and look up to see the light leaving his crystal blue eyes. Trying and failing to suppress a sob, I smooth his blonde hair back off his forehead and kiss it tenderly as my bloody tears fall on his beautiful, chiseled face.

Time for act two, I suppose. I sit up, my legs on either side of his broad body and bite violently into my left wrist. I place the wound to his lips, cradling his head with my other hand and refill his empty human body with my blood, reopening the wound several times. I can feel my magic taking hold in his body, such a strange sensation, but one that eases the fear that's been lurking inside me since the night he told me what he needed me to do for him. It was working. He was right, as usual. All will be well.

When I'm done, I manage to gather his large body up against my much smaller one and carry him to the Viking-sized hole I dug earlier in the evening. Placing him gently down inside, I crawl in after him, using my arms to scoop in the earth I removed over top of us until we are covered.

I lay beneath the ground with Eric Northman.

I'm snuggled into his back, spooning him, my fingers caressing his hand which I have wound tightly around mine. If he were conscious he'd make a crack about me ruining my clothes. My heart clenches at the thought. I can feel dawn approaching, and suddenly I have found my long-lost voice.

As we lay in our grave, I begin to whisper in his ear. I tell him every little feeling I have for him, all the things that I was unable to articulate while he was conscious, staring me down with those piercing blue orbs.

"With all that I am, I love you, Eric, my master."

He can't hear me anymore, but that's okay. He knows.

FIN


End file.
